"Got the money?" I nodded and handed the guy four one hundred dollar bills, my patience wearing thin as he scanned the area around us to make sure there was no one around. "Seriously? I wasn't followed," I growled, shaving my hands into my hoodie pocket, my breathing fogging in the air, chills racing across my back. "Fine. Here, kid." He looked the other way and shoved two small plastic bags into my stomach. I slid them into my pocket and walked away, muttering an almost silent thanks.
I kicked my front door open and stalked in, kicking aside empty beer cans and burnt out cigarettes. I tossed the bags onto the coffee table and walked to the kitchen, rummaging through the fridge for the six pack I knew I had in there.
The cardboard clunked as it hit the table, the glass clinking together as I threw myself onto the couch and pulled my lighter out of my back pocket. I rolled my newly-bought weed into a piece of paper and lit it, inhaling the fumes greedily. My escape.
The top of the bottle hissed as I popped the metal lid off, the stinging burn of horrible alcohol washing down my throat as I eagerly gulped it down. I worked through the six pack and a bag and a half of weed before I started getting flashbacks of the one thing I was trying so hard to forget.
Flashback.
I fixed the collar to my tux, smoothing my tie against my shirt. I raked my fingers through my hair, trying to make it look somewhat presentable.
"Jason?" Julia's head poked around my bathroom door, her hair waving down her back in soft curls, her black dress swooping around the door. "I'm ready," I mumbled, checking my pockets one last time for my speech. "You're Uncle Bruce is coming to pick us up." "Okay." "Are you okay, honey?" she walked in and slipped her arms around my waist, her cheek pressed against my back. "As okay as I'll ever be." She kissed the back of my shoulder. "I love you," she whispered before walking out.
The ride to the church was long and silent, my uncle trying to get me to talk, and my refusing. He finally settled with asking Julia about our relationship.
The second I walked into the church, I was drowned in hugs, kisses, and ‘I'm sorry's from my family members, aunts I hadn't seen since I was five, uncles who used to spoil me and buy me footballs, cousins who talked about me behind my back, female cousins that acted like female dogs...
I stood next to my brothers' coffin and accepted their hugs, talking to the relatives I got along with, actually smiling for the first time since Brian had taken me to the morgue to see that my brother was dead.
"Honey." My Aunt Margret pulled me into a tight hug and squeezed, kissing my cheek. I hugged her back, burying my face into her shoulder. Aunt Margret was the one aunt that had cared about Alex and I, always sending us cards and money on our birthdays, or Christmas; she had even visited us for a while, but after her divorce with Uncle Harry those visits slowly became less and less often.
She cupped my face in her hands, peering intently into my eyes. "You okay, sweetheart?" I nodded. "Good. Eating plenty?" I nodded again. "Drinking lots of water?" Another nod. "Not too many sweets, right? Lots of fruit, fiber, vegetables, milk-," "Yes, Aunt Margret," I sighed, smiling a bit. She smiled and hugged me again. "Good boy."
She released me and faced the casket, a sigh slipping past her lips as she looked at Alex, tears in her eyes. "He was always such a good boy." I didn't say anything. "You know, your mom and dad tried so hard for a baby when they first got married. Then your mom got pregnant and they just talked and talked about a baby girl." She laughed a little, her hand folding over her heart, her other arm around my waist. I leaned against her.
